


Another Nyotan Night

by Elayna



Series: The Nyotan Series [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-11
Updated: 2000-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:05:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/pseuds/Elayna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to: Nyotan Nights (It shouldn't be essential to have read the first story to enjoy this one. Just know that Obi-Wan learned a particular story of dancing and excellent muscular control while on a mission to Nyota.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Nyotan Night

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my MA listsibs for their quick encouragement to my somewhat inebriated ramblings about this story, especially to Kimdy for the 'hiding' idea.

"The Gleffian rulers have total control over their people. Unhappiness among the populace isn't a relevant factor in negotiations between the Gleffia and Altooine."

Qui-Gon shook his head at Mace's declaration as he opened the door to the quarters he shared with his Padawan. "You're wrong, Mace. Yes, they appear to have total control, but members of the ruling family have been deposed and replaced with more popular members. The current Empress cannot ignore what effect the negotiations might have on her people." Gesturing, he added, "Sit down, let me see if Obi-Wan has anything planned for dinner."

The Councilor frowned at the small living area. "Hasn't your furniture been rearranged?"

Pausing to look, Qui-Gon agreed, "Yes…maybe Obi-Wan needed space to practice katas." The couch, armchair and low table were usually grouped closer to the center of the room, creating a cozy arrangement for reading and discussion. Now, all the furniture was pushed back to the walls. Huge, plush pillows that Qui-Gon couldn't recall seeing were placed on the floor near the couch. The vibrant swirls of colors on the pillow contrasted with the room's subdued decor.

"Why didn't he go to the gymnasium? The free space is still ridiculously small for a proper kata."

With a perplexed expression, Qui-Gon said, "Let me find him." He strode toward their bedroom, sliding the door open and stepping inside, almost bumping into his Padawan, who was apparently on the verge of entering the living area. "Oh, Obi-Wan. I brought Mace back. We were discussing our next mission and Mace has some interesting insights. I thought we could have a beneficial conversation over dinner. Were are you about to go out?" Qui-Gon asked, belatedly noticing that Obi-Wan was wearing his Jedi cloak, an unusual piece of attire for their rooms.

"Master, I asked this morning if you had any commitments tonight and you said no. I thought we would have a quiet night together."

Qui-Gon shrugged helplessly while replying, "Mace and I got talking…" He trailed off, realizing by Obi-Wan's studiously blank face that he'd blundered badly. "Did you make plans for us?"

"Yes, Master, I made plans for us. Very special plans. But never mind. If you would like to discuss politics with Mace, the two of you can eat the dinner I've prepared. I believe I will change and eat with the other Padawans, if you don't mind." Obi-Wan was the epitome of politeness as he stated his plans.

Qui-Gon was confused by his Padawan's request, as it was odd for his dedicated student to decline any chance to become further prepared for a mission. "Obi-Wan, if you've made plans, I can ask Mace to leave," he offered. As an afterthought, he asked, "Why do you have to change? And why are you wearing your cloak?"

"No, Master, that's fine. I wouldn't want to interrupt your evening. And I have to change because I'm not wearing my normal clothes. I put my cloak on when I heard Mace's voice. I didn't think you'd want him to see me in this attire." With a supple roll of his shoulders and a slight arch to his back, Obi-Wan's cloak dropped from his body, leaving him standing in blue gauze pants, slung low on his hips, with elastic drawing the fabric tight to his ankles. Three rows of shiny silver coins hung from the waistband. The matching bolero also was lavishly decorated with coins. His feet were bare and Qui-Gon noted for the first time that Obi-Wan had redone his braid with a dozen small silver beads spaced at regular intervals.

Obi-Wan was silent as Qui-Gon made his inspection, then turned his back, revealing how well the gauze clung to his tight buttocks. Another nonchalant shoulder roll and the bolero fell to the floor. Turning his head to look at Qui-Gon, only the padawan braid covering his naked back, Obi-Wan asked, "Weren't you going to visit with Mace? He'll wonder what's happened to you."

"I'll get rid of him," Qui-Gon promised hoarsely. He didn't wait for Obi-Wan's reaction, pivoting to exit the bedroom. Mace was seated on the couch, casually thumbing through Qui-Gon's datapadd on the Glefian mission. "Mace, I'm sorry, but Obi-Wan and I have plans. We'll have to resume this discussion some other time."

Mace's brows arched inquisitively. "Are they important plans? I'll be extremely busy for the next few days. We may not have another chance to talk before you leave."

After a brief internal debate on possible excuses, Qui-Gon opted for honesty. "Mace, I can talk politics or I can have incredibly hot sex with Obi-Wan. Send me any notes you think will be helpful."

At that response, Mace's brows arched so high they almost hit the top of his head. "Really, Qui-Gon," he intoned, "there is no passion. There is serenity."

The two had been friends for decades since both were initiates. They had shared difficult missions, argued intensely over the proper role of the Jedi, and laughed loudly together during good times. Qui-Gon knew Mace well, and knew both what the Councilor found truly offensive and when he was being deliberately difficult. "Mace, get out."

The other Master was still chuckling as Qui-Gon shoved him out the door before scurrying to the bedroom. Once again, he met Obi-Wan leaving the room. "He's gone."

"Good." Obi-Wan slid his hands around Qui-Gon's neck, pulling his head down into a passionate kiss. It was unclear whether Obi-Wan lifted himself or Qui-Gon pulled him up, but it took only a brief second before Obi-Wan's legs were locked around his Master's hips with Qui-Gon's hands settled firmly on his buttocks, kneading the taut cheeks. Obi-Wan's arms wrapped around Qui-Gon's back as his cloak covered their bodies. Their tongues fought not for domination but to determine who could explore the other's mouth more hungrily, each craving the taste of his partner.

The need for a full breath eventually broke the two apart. Obi-Wan leaned back in Qui-Gon's arms. "I'm glad you comprehended the subtle nuances of what I was attempting to convey, Master. I would hate to be eating in the dining hall with the other Padawans while you enjoyed a scintillating conversation with Mace."

Shifting his grip so he could hold Obi-Wan with one hand, Qui-Gon let the other drift up Obi-Wan's back and around to his torso, stopping on the bolero, fingers splayed. The middle finger of his hand unerringly found the silver coin directly over Obi-Wan's nipple, circling the outside edge. Obi-Wan hissed gratefully as the cool metal and airy fabric were pressed on his distended nipple.

"There's nothing subtle about how sexy you look in this outfit. This is new, isn't it?" Qui-Gon asked. "I like the silver coins."

"Mate Bunny sent it. You rather destroyed the last one." There was no heat in Obi-Wan's accusation.

"You were teasing me, Obi-Wan. Extremely slow teasing."

The mild reprimand was met by Obi-Wan's grin. "That wasn't teasing, Mate. I was simply following the traditional dictates of Nyotan cultures. Which reminds me," he said, as he unlocked his legs and pushed away, forcing Qui-Gon to drop him to the floor, "dinner first, then dancing. We wouldn't want to be disrespectful when celebrating another culture."

Qui-Gon groaned. "You're going to make me wait again, aren't you?"

A last quick kiss, followed by a "Yes" whispered to Qui-Gon's lips. "Now take off your cloak and go sit down."

Numbly obeying Obi-Wan's dictates, Qui-Gon hung his cloak by the door before settling himself on the ground, sitting on a plush pillow, his back resting against the couch. He stretched his legs out in front of him. Obi-Wan kneeled and began unlatching each boot buckle. /I won't rush this, I will allow him to be slow/ Qui-Gon mentally chanted to himself, well aware that his boots had never taken so long to remove.

Qui-Gon sought desperately for his center. His apprentice loved these Nyotan nights, relished the secret preparations for his Master's delight, reveled in heightening Qui-Gon's desire before satisfying their mutual lust with lengthy love-making. Qui-Gon's guilt when he ripped the delicate material of Obi-Wan's costume beyond repair had been immense. The two months since their last Nyotan night had felt like an eternity. While being together was always wonderful, these nights were a special tradition for them since their trade mission to that lovely planet.

Boots removed, Obi-Wan considerately carried them off to the bedroom before heading to the kitchen area. When he came back out, he was bearing a large platter. He sat on a pillow next to Qui-Gon, curling his legs underneath, placing the tray on the floor in front of him.

Surveying the platter's contents, Qui-Gon saw a collection of different foods, fresh fruit cut in bite-sized pieces, vegetables cooked in spices, meat marinated with honey, and crispy slices of bread. "Really, Obi-Wan, I thought the Nyotans ate in courses. You appear to have brought everything at once."

"I believed it was wise to make some adjustments. I didn't want to waste time walking back and forth to the kitchen. Not when you've demonstrated that your patience is so very limited."

"A good apprentice learns from mistakes and rectifies them," Qui-Gon mock pontificated.

Snuggling together, the two fed each other, alternating the tartness of the fruit with the tang of the spiced vegetables, breaking bread to scoop up the meat and honey. They used no utensils, nibbling on fingers, mixing the taste of their skin with the flavor of the food.

Obi-Wan insisted on serving Qui-Gon the greater share of the food and the Master accepted, realizing his Padawan didn't like to dance on an overfed belly. They talked casually but lightly between bites. No discussion of lessons, no discourses on Republic politics, no preparations for their next missions. By unvoiced agreement, their topics were limited to simple tales of events around the Academy, news from Mate Bunny about Nyota, exchanging endearments and making flattering remarks.

When the last piece was cleaned from the platter, the final blend of spice and honey licked from each other's fingers, Obi-Wan rose while Qui-Gon marveled at his grace. He didn't put a hand on the couch to lift himself from the curled position, merely rippled his body up to a standing position.

Obi-Wan padded off to the kitchen as Qui-Gon frankly ogled his sauntering walk. His stride was captivating enough in his Jedi leggings and boots; with his waist bared and his skin visible through the delicate fabric, the slinkiness of his strut was devastating. He returned with a warm, wet towel, cleaning their hands and mouths. Surprisingly, he dropped a fistful of paper bills and metal coins acquired from different planets in Qui-Gon's lap.

"Props, Mate, props. You can figure out what to do with them?"

"Yes, Mate. I believe I can manage this task by myself."

Qui-Gon contemplated the coins as Obi-Wan poured him a liqueur, setting the glass by his Master. Obi-Wan lowered the lights before he moved to the comm console and started a Nyotan song playing. The coins were secreted away before Obi-Wan turned to face Qui-Gon, strolling to the center of the room.

The music began slow, a peaceful, gentle arrangement. With his head bowed, Obi-Wan stood angled slightly away from Qui-Gon, knees bent, one leg in front, only the pointed toes of that foot touching the ground. He began shimmying, softly rippling his muscles, the sound of the tinkling coins accompanying him. The gauzy fabric drifted loosely in response to his movement and Qui-Gon realized that the pants were slit on each side from hip to ankle, revealing flashes of his exquisitely shaped thighs and calves.

The beat of the music increased and Obi-Wan's torso swayed from side to side, his arms rising to stretch over his head as his back arched. One leg rose, knee to chest, unfolding until his ankle almost touched his ear. As Obi-Wan paused to hold that position for a measure of the music, Qui-Gon gulped and took a hasty drink of the alcohol, almost burning his throat at the sight of his apprentice spread wide for him. With extreme control, Obi-Wan leaned back until his hands met the ground, shifting his weight until his body rested on his hands and his legs were split in the air.

With a crash of cymbals, the music accelerated. Obi-Wan flipped his other leg over to land nimbly before following the rhythm of the music around the room, a whirling dervish combining the supple Nyotan dance moves with his gymnastic leaps and jumps. He pirouetted in place, one leg and the braid snapping around his body, flipped forward into the splits on the ground, rolled to his back using the strength of his calves to leap up. His back to Qui-Gon, he circled to face his Master while performing a rapid series of isolations, first the head, then the shoulders, torso, and hips. Qui-Gon realized he was seeing Obi-Wan's own combination of his Jedi training and the Nyotan dance, a choreographed fusion of masculine energy and sensual elegance. The moves were tight and controlled to accommodate the small space, but Obi-Wan was expansive in his gestures, offering his body and his performance to his audience. This creation was uniquely Obi-Wan, designed for Qui-Gon's viewing. Wholly for Qui-Gon.

The music became less frenetic though the tempo stayed demanding as Obi-Wan approached Qui-Gon. In the dimmed lights, he was a luminous being, glowing with the love in his eyes and a fine sheen of perspiration coating his chest and face. His hips were rolling with the beat. "Did you wish to reward my performance, Mate?" was his provoking comment, as his hands drifted up and down his chest, stroking his bare flesh. Qui-Gon swallowed, desperately wanting to be the one stroking his skin, but accepting his current role of watcher.

Qui-Gon folded the paper bills lengthwise, raising to one knee. His hands shook as he slipped the money into the loose waistband by one hip. The motions of Obi-Wan's feet were infinitesimally small as he swiveled in place to present Qui-Gon with his other hip. Qui-Gon risked a brief kiss to Obi-Wan's navel before sliding another bill under the elastic as Obi-Wan's hips continued their frantic twitching. He was rewarded by the presentation of Obi-Wan's back to him, and was fast to press a kiss to the supple skin before tucking another bill into his lover's pants.

"Coins, Mate?" Obi-Wan inquired sultrily as he gazed down as the kneeling man.

Falling back on the pillow, Qui-Gon spread his arms and legs wide. "Find them," he dared. He realized with amusement that Obi-Wan had timed this encounter perfectly as the cadence of the music slowed to its first soft pace.

Obi-Wan dropped to his knees behind Qui-Gon's spread legs. His body was gently undulating, his muscles continuing to ripple. He leaned forward, asking, "Maybe in my favorite place? Close to your heart." Clasping his hands behind him, he nuzzled between Qui-Gon's tunics, separating the fabric by burying his face between the inner and out layers, locating the coin resting over Qui-Gon's heart. His teeth bit down on the coin, pulling it away from the fabric, letting it drop on the floor.

A similar search on the other side yielded nothing. Obi-Wan stretched, arms over his head, hands clasped, head rolling, while he pondered. The bolero swung with his motion and Qui-Gon licked his lips, patiently waiting the opportunity to taste the nipples revealed and covered. With a smile, Obi-Wan nuzzled the other side of Qui-Gon's chest, this time between the inner tunic and his silken flesh. He cherished his Master's nipple with a lingering lick before removing the coin pressed to his bare skin.

Obi-Wan rested one hand on his Master's bulge, feeling carefully. Mischievously, he noted, "Oh yes, I do believe there's something waiting for me." He flipped up the tunics. Qui-Gon assisted by raising his hips as Obi-Wan pulled down the leggings to reveal the remainder of the coins. The cascade of silver fell to the ground as Qui-Gon's erection sprang free. Ignoring the money, Obi-Wan slithered until his body rested on the ground, shoulders between Qui-Gon's thighs. He gathered the remnants of honey from the tray, anointing Qui-Gon's cock with the sticky fluid. He bent himself to the task of cleaning Qui-Gon with long licks and kisses.

Groaning loudly, Qui-Gon buried his hands in Obi-Wan's short hair. He thrust his hips into Obi-Wan's mouth, caught between the plump softness of the pillows and Obi-Wan's wet heat. To his embarrassment, he couldn't last long. Obi-Wan's dance had teased him too much. He'd bided his time, watching, counseling himself to patience, mesmerized both by Obi-Wan's beauty and the knowledge of how many hours his apprentice must have spent, preparing his dance solely for Qui-Gon's pleasure. The love and dedication radiating from his apprentice overwhelmed Qui-Gon's heart. His emotions shattered, the warm, flexible tongue rolling around his crown while Obi-Wan sucked hard and deftly fondled his balls was too exciting for his physical control. He arched his hips high, giving a strangled groan as his seed flooded Obi-Wan's mouth.

Obi-Wan diligently finished cleaning Qui-Gon's softened penis, ensuring that every drop of honey was removed before sitting up. Licking the last drops of come from his lips, he murmured, "Really Qui-Gon, applause is usually sufficient. The finest elixir in the universe is surely overpayment."

For his teasing remark, Qui-Gon yanked Obi-Wan close and kissed him hard, bruising his succulent lips. "You were born to dance for me, my Mate."

"Only you, my Mate."

Satisfied with the ready agreement, Qui-Gon cupped Obi-Wan's cock. He wasn't fully erect, the concentration on his choreography distracting his passion. They kissed while Qui-Gon's massage brought Obi-Wan to full stiffness. "And how may I return the favor?"

"Have you been practicing what I taught you? Will you let me - ?"

"Yes. Oh yes. Anything for you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon responded fiercely. He kicked his leggings completely off his legs and tossed his tunics away. Turning over, he positioned himself, knees on the pillow, chest on the couch.

Obi-Wan stripped himself as he appreciated the view, Qui-Gon's strong back, tight buttocks, his long legs parted. He was dazzled by his Master's instant acceptance, that superior combination of intellect and exquisite male beauty, all available for Obi-Wan. He stroked his hands down Qui-Gon's spine, cupping his buttocks, allowing Qui-Gon time to loosen himself. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, my Mate. I'm ready."

Settling between the spread thighs, Obi-Wan gripped Qui-Gon's hips, his cock nudging at the opening between those perfect cheeks. He sank the head of his cock into the welcoming channel. "Qui-Gon, you're too tight. I need to prepare you with my fingers."

"I know how tight I am," his Master growled. "I want to be tight for you. Take me, Obi-Wan. You thought of this all those hours practicing your dance, didn't you. Take me as hard and passionately as you practiced."

Overwhelmed by Qui-Gon's command, Obi-Wan shoved his cock into Qui-Gon's heat. Their pleased moans echoed in the room as Obi-Wan gradually thrust into Qui-Gon, fighting for every inch as Qui-Gon controlled the muscles of his body, firmly squeezing Obi-Wan's cock.

Brushing his hair to one side, Qui-Gon twisted his head to stare at Obi-Wan, his eyes catching Obi-Wan's and burning them with the intensity of his gaze. "More. I want everything."

Obi-Wan moaned with wonder and responded with the total strength of his body, the toes of his flexed feet digging in the carpeting while his knees pushed into the pillow. His hands clasped Qui-Gon's shoulders, fingers digging indentations in the smooth skin as he used his grip to increase the force of his thrusts. Obi-Wan plunged recklessly into Qui-Gon's body with a rhythmic ferocity that matched the aggressive power of his dance.

Just as roughly, Qui-Gon shoved back, encouraging Obi-Wan to increase his efforts, hurtling them into a world where nothing existed but the melding of their bodies, warm skin sliding over silken flesh, eyes meeting until neither could focus. Qui-Gon pleaded, "More," and Obi-Wan responded, his buttock muscles tightening as his driving hips pounded into Qui-Gon's body with even greater vigor. A low scream of pleasure escaped Obi-Wan's lips as he climaxed, reaching to grasp and pump Qui-Gon's penis, lost as much in the physical gratification of his orgasm rocketing through his senses as in the emotional satisfaction of feeling his Master come in his hand.

Neither was fully conscious as they turned and snuggled on the plush pillows, the thumping of their hearts slowing, lazy kisses landing on random patches of skin, hands touching and caressing.

Idly tracing an imaginary circle around Qui-Gon's nipple with one finger, Obi-Wan finally disturbed the silence by asking, "How did you persuade Mace to leave?"

"I told him the truth."

"The truth?" Obi-Wan queried, his body too incredibly relaxed for his mind to comprehend Qui-Gon's comment.

"That I'd rather have incredibly hot sex with you than talk politics."

Shocked, Obi-Wan yelped, "You didn't!" He was aware Qui-Gon could be bluntly honest with his old friends, but even so, he was surprised at his Master's frank admission.

"Ummm, I did. Though I suppose I did lie," Qui-Gon mused between nibbling on Obi-Wan's lips.

Obi-Wan frowned as he responded flatly, "Don't tell me that wasn't incredibly hot sex."

"It wasn't." Qui-Gon's hand drifted delicately down Obi-Wan's cheek as their eyes held, Qui-Gon's expression affirming his sincerity. "It was the purest expression of love I have ever been privileged to receive. You overwhelm me with your generosity, my beloved Obi-Wan."

"Oh. Well." Obi-Wan was clearly mollified. His eyes sparkled with crystal tears for a second as he considered Qui-Gon's declaration, too overwhelmed to find the words to express his own love. Instead, he promised, "Only until my next dance," kissing Qui-Gon desperately to seal his vow. His impish streak reasserted itself as he separated their lips, grinning. Rippling to a standing position, he held out his hand to Qui-Gon. "I'd hate to make you lie to a Councilor, my Mate. Maybe we'd better retire to the bedroom and have that incredibly hot sex now."

Qui-Gon rose and in one smooth movement, swung Obi-Wan into his arms. Obi-Wan laughingly shrieked at the unexpected act, clutching his Master. He was smaller than Qui-Gon, but large enough to be unaccustomed to the sensation of being carried. Qui-Gon returned the grin. "One night of incredibly hot sex as requested, my Mate."

Winding his arms around Qui-Gon's neck, Obi-Wan whispered, "Yes, Mate," before their lips met in a fierce kiss as Qui-Gon carried him into the bedroom, minds, bodies, hearts and souls in perfect harmony.

~the end~


End file.
